Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1887-01-06
with the oil lessncss of terror.

ell. with the pr lHSSncsS OF terror.
He slammed the door. and retired,
calling: "Almiry: you Almiry! fetch me
the campfire bottle"
Jimmy turned away, with swelling
heart. He was an outcast, then-Jim-
nv Gayle who had been always well
come among his wandering compan-
ions. and had been called good fellow.
But he would ask nothing more of any
man. he said to himself. as he toiled
along whittier? He scarcely knew.
He came to an empty cabin, standing
not far from the road. 1t was poor
enough place. and the floor would make
a hard bed but at least it would be
roof over his head.
He grew worse and worse.
II b lieve I'm dyin'," he muttered.
ian l never got home, after all. "
He tried to frame prayer, and fix
his mind on pous things. But all he
would think OF was the greenland
white Methodist Church where he had
gone to Sunday-school. The picture
rose before him of himself seated on
bench. swinging his bare feet The
back door stood open. and his thoughts
went wandering out like lost sheep-past
the great clump of Cherokee studded
thick with white roses, and the bloomy
hawthorn hedge, across the green fields.
to the great woods where there was
glimpse of bright water running on
and on. With what mixing voice ii
called upon him to follow! His Sun
day-school teacher wore wonderful
flowers on her bonnet. and used some
sweet kind of scent on her handker-
chief He never knew his lesson. and
she used to shake her head at him, and
hold up Tom Parker as a model of
good behavior, as she put down bad
mark after Jimmy's name. The tile
shrll voices of the children, singing
the hymn, rang through his head
How still it was, this Sunday! 1t seem
ed as if the birds knew what day it was,
and kept quiet. Only the children's
hymn and the reedy pipe of the melo-
deon tloated out of the window, and
rose toward the sky.
He came back with start.
"Yes-Pm dyn'." he said in a
parched voice.
He fumbled at Beppo's collar. Why
should he keep the poor beast with
him. to starve? He could live life of
liberty in the woods. At first. Beppo
did not realize the fact of his freedom.
but continued to frolic aimlessly about
the hut.
Jimmy's bleared eyes followed him,
with the anxious hope that he might
stay.
But Beppo had discovered the door
he hesitated on the threshold for an IN
stant-and was gone.
The man sobbed aloud. Now indeed.
he was alone
Then he forgot himself in heavy
dreams, through which the outside
noises of birds and insects pierced
dimly.
He thought that Lima was child
again, and her little pattering football
was echoing on the bare floor. The
sound was so real that his eyes sprang
open.
1t was Beppo. Affection for his mas
ter was scarcely the power that had
brought him back. 1t was rather be-
cause he had been bred in close quar-
ters, and did moi comprehend, as yet.
the wide liberty of woodland life. More
than this, all that this brute instinct
knew of home and food centered in
Jimmy; so he had come home to be fed.
Jimmy tried to thank God for releas-
ing him from the terror of utter lonli-
ness. He thought to himself that he
would feed Beppo once n day, so that
the creature would stay with him, as
long as the food in the knapsack lasted.
But he would drift away into stupor
again, and Embarrassing from il, would
fancy that another day had come, and
it must be time to feed Beppe.
In reality, the period of his suffering
was not long; but what an eternity of
misery it held!-of fever, of pain and
the agony of thirst soaring the parched
and swollen throat.
Beppo scrambled about the floor
playing with sticks and straws, and
chattering 10 himself. Sometimes, he
would try to catch the scaly-backed
lizards that darted away over the rough
boards with husky, rafting noise.
Now and then, he would run to his
masters side, and pass his black paws
over his face, grunting: "Ouf ouf!'
Sometimes he went out; but always re-
turned
Jimmy had become very still. The
monkeys clever paws were rummaging
in the knapsack.
The sky was deeply blue. and the sun
was shifting the withered fields and
rudy forests with all its burning might
Through the hot silence thrilled the
note of the locust.
Jimmy opened his eyes. Everything
swan before them in dark mist.
"lt's gettin' night" he whispered,
his lips scarcely forming the words.
The vagabond's wanderings were
ended. Julia X. WethereH, in the Cur
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